A Place in Paradise Doesn't Come Cheap
by So Said the Dragon
Summary: The Merc With a Mouth inadvertently embarks on his most dangerous and confusing job yet. Are things really as simple as they seem? Is it true love, or will he just end up with a broken heart? Will those little boxes ever go away? And most importantly, who gets to keep the car? It won't be easy, but Deadpool is certain that this time, he'll come out on top.
1. Chapter 1

"Not the way I wanted to spend my Saturday night."

Deadpool kicked a stray soda can out of his path, sending it flying into the murky water of the nearby ditch. He didn't have any pockets to put his hands into, so instead, he placed them on his belt and continued to trudge along. The tar was still wet from the rain that had just ended a few minutes earlier, as was his costume, giving him chills to add to his anger.

_How did you want to spend it_?

He stalwartly ignored the voice.

_Sitting at home watching infomercial reruns again?_

He ignored this one as well, instead choosing to sulk in silence. The road he was on was one of the quietest he had seen, with pristine divider lines that seemed to glow in the dark. He had been walking for a little over an hour, and hadn't seen a single vehicle the entire time. Worse, he had seen three driveways.

"Stupid, rich, snobby..."

The neighborhood, if it could even be called that, was the most affluent in the state. The wide acres of forest were spotted with mansions, both old and new, a number of miles from a small street that made up the "downtown" area. On that street was a grocery store, a small boutique, a craft store, a single restaurant and the clinic, amongst a couple family-owned shops. It was the kind of place chain stores couldn't touch, and only old, rich families retired to.

Down that almost perfectly horizontal road, he saw a flash of light. The silence of the night was suddenly broken by the sound of an engine, speeding down the road at what he knew had to be over ninety miles an hour. The headlights came up fast, and he could recognize the car as that of a BMW Z4 Roadster, definitely the car of one of the locals.

"HEY!" Wade began to wave, running towards the car.

_What the hell are you doing?_

_Getting a ride? Duh._

He chose to ignore the voices and continued to try and get the drivers attention. The BMW showed no signs of slowing down, which he thought was curious, but he continued to stand in the road. As the car closed in on him, the brakes let out a shriek and the car swerved to the side. It nearly hit him before it came to a halt several long feet behind him.

Taking the fact it stopped as a sign he was welcome, he walked up to the passenger side, noting the hood was down and the seat was a little damp.

"Cool stop." He told the driver, pulling the door wide open for himself. As he went to settle in the seat, he noticed the driver. A woman, who in the dim glow of the dashboard seemed to have a dark fluid dripping down her chin and staining the collar of her pale blouse. He couldn't see the injury from his angle. "Hey? Did you hit your head?"

She lifted her head to look at him, but was only able to keep herself up for a moment, and dropped back against her seat. Blood bloomed through the fabric of her long shirt, the only fabric she had on, overtaking the grey with a blackish red. He watched for a moment as gaping wounds disappeared up her shirt and down into the darkness beneath the dashboard, from her wrists to beneath her sleeves. The dampness in the passenger seat, he realized, was likely not from the drizzle that had begun.

_Holy shit. Look at her, bro._

_Motherfu-_

"Yeah." Wade mumbled as her eyelids began to flutter shut, and her heaving breaths began to soften. He reached into the vehicle from the drivers side and lifted her easily into his arms, feeling her cool skin contrasting with the thick warmth of her blood. As it soaked through his suit, he felt himself becoming disgusted by the feeling for the first time in his long, violent life. He placed her down gently in the passenger seat and took over, lingering only long enough to put the hood up to block out the rain. The only sign she was even alive was the occasional ragged breath.

_It's like...fate. Or something. _

_That we almost made her hit us with her car?_

_But **did **she? No. Fate, bro. F-A-T-E._

_So what do we do?_

_First of all...we might wanna stop that bleeding._

_Then what?_

"Then we find a wedding chapel."


	2. Chapter 2

Good doctors were few and far between, so he made the most of it when he discovered the aging man who ran the town's clinic was still at his office. He politely knocked – unable to get enough leverage to kick the door in with a bleeding woman in hand – and waited for the doctor to appear. The man seemed to consider turning them away, but his instincts to save the wounded took over, and he stepped aside.

"Put her on the table, please." He said, motioning to the first room. Wade settled his bleeding friend on the crinkly paper and watched cautiously as he gathered up the appropriate tools. "Remove her blouse as well, if you would."

He didn't bother to unbutton the ruined shirt, and instead simply tore it away from her. As he expected, she was bleeding and naked beneath it. Whoever had mutilated her had apparently gone at her in a rage, both with a blade and what must have been a cane. The doctor approached and began to clean the excess blood away, in no real hurry it seemed, around the deepest knife wounds.

"Hmm..." The old man frowned, but continued his work.

"What? What?" Wade asked, rolling on his heels.

"Your friend is...hmm..." Wade frowned. "It looks like a healing factor has been all but beaten out of her."

He didn't mention it was odd that the doctor knew what a healing factor was, or ask how he was able to tell.

"So what does that mean?"

"It means it's a good thing you stopped here. Someone beat her so severely her healing factor was overwhelmed and shut down. Given time, she'll recover. In the mean time, I need you to put on a clean pair of gloves and give me a hand."

He reluctantly agreed to assist the doctor, holding gauze and getting more supplies when appropriate. The old man worked studiously and, if Wade wasn't mistaken, knew something he didn't. He opted to wait until after he was done stitching up his new friend before asking questions, however. All cleaned up, she didn't look nearly as bad as before, but it was possible that was because most of her consisted of bandages. Many of the wounds didn't need stitches – the doctor was convinced the ones that did would have been fatal without a healing factor.

The doctor gave her a full exam following everything else. To his amazement, she hadn't been sexually assaulted, or at least, if she had she had physically healed from it already. There was no lasting damage anywhere else in her body, either, though she would be in too much pain to move for at least a few days.

_Bet the guy who did this wanted to beat the mutant out of her before he did anything else._

"So is she gonna be okay?" He asked as the doctor helped him slip her into a pair of scrubs.

"Physically, yes. I'm not so sure about her mental status, however." The doctor replied, shuffling through his shelves. "Depending on how long she was tortured, _why_, by whom, she may suffer from mental trauma for the rest of her life."

Wade frowned again.

_Great._

The doctor wandered out to the small pharmacy, leaving Wade to wait with the woman. She was doing much better – her healing must have been speeding up with the medical attention – and he felt himself relax a little. The doctor returned with three bottles of pills and a list.

"She needs to take one of these twice a day, one of these no more then every six hours for pain, and one of these as needed for anxiety." The doctor said, handing him the pills. Wade tucked them away in his pocket and watched the doctor set up an IV. "We should let her stay on a drip for a few hours, recover some of what she's lost. I'd like to be able to talk with her before you leave."

"You're real cool for a doctor." He blurted. The old man smiled slightly.

"I used to be a medic in the army." He shrugged. "Back then it wasn't about whether someone was a mutant or not – it was about saving their lives."

They pulled up chairs to wait with the woman, in case she woke up and panicked. The doctor set his coffee pot to brew, and they listened to it quietly percolate for several minutes before Wade couldn't handle the silence anymore.

"How'd you even know she was a mutant?"

"Inside many of the wounds she had tissue that had partially healed. If her healing factor was functioning normally, it would have been a faster process, but without the energy to dedicate to it her body was forced to work much more slowly. The IV should be enough of a boost to get her to wake up."

_One smart doctor, huh? _

"You know who did this?" Wade asked.

"No idea." He sighed. "Though I'm afraid many residents around here have very...conservative views about mutants. I'm afraid this young woman isn't the first mutant they've attacked – she's...very lucky."

_Looks like we start looking the old fashioned way._

_It'll have to wait._ _She's gonna need us with her for a while._

The doctor poured two cups of coffee, handing the second to the mercenary. He pulled his mask up around his nose to take a sip, watching the doctor carefully. Like anyone should, he seemed surprised at first, but covered it up and resumed sipping his drink.

He chatted amiably with the old doctor for nearly an hour before she began to show signs of waking up. She shifted slowly, trying to get a feel for her location, her brain desperately trying to reconcile all of the information. She finally opened her eyes, so blue they almost seemed harsh in the bright light, focusing on the mercenary.

"Hey," He cooed, putting careful pressure on her sternum as she tried to sit up. "Just lay still and relax, baby. Doctor...doctor?"

"Doctor Miller."

"Doctor Miller says you need to lay down for a while."

She stared at him questioningly but allowed herself to be held down. Her eyes focused intensely on the ruined skin around his mouth, which he had neglected to cover in his haste. It didn't seem to disturb her so much as comfort her – perhaps because it so clearly meant he was a mutant as well. He smiled and petted her face carefully, avoiding the spot where someone had cracked her in the head.

_I think she likes us! _

_Maybe she just likes us because she's not being hit. _

_Fucking downer. It's because she loves us._

"I've given your friend everything you need to recover." Doctor Miller announced. "I've kept you off the record for your own safety, so you're free to do whenever your friend is ready."

"I could use some paper towels, first."

_This car is so gross Even if you clean up all the blood it doesn't change the fact she was still bleeding in it._

_It's all we've got. We'll switch it out when we get to town._

He cleaned the BMW as quickly and efficiently as possible. It had no identifying features in it except the owners manual, which led him to believe it was someone's prop rather then their usual ride. Doctor Miller waited inside with the woman as he cleaned, and sometime while he was out there, produced a thin blanket and pillow often used in hospitals to make the ride more comfortable.

Wade easily lifted the woman in his arms – she was awake now, but gave no indications of fighting him – and carried her to the passenger side. The doctor followed, making sure the woman was in no pain.

"Thanks for the help, doc." Wade shook his hand vigorously once the dozing woman was safely tucked away. "If you ever need anyone taken care of, give me a call."

He hopped in the car, which reeked more of cleaning solvent then blood at least, and peeled out of the driveway. His new lady friend lolled in her seat, unable to support her body with normal strength. He reached out and took hold of her hand.

"It's okay, baby." He said, drawing her attention. "I'll take care of you. I'll find us a nice place to stay, then I'll go get you some nice clothes and ice cream and make you feel all better."


End file.
